Harry Potter and the Perilous Handbook of Clichés
by headagainstthesky
Summary: A one-shot parody. Harry finds a very peculiar and perilous handbook, and travels through an unbelievable alternate universe where everything is upsidedown. Rated M because I like the letter M. Oh yeah, and for some grownup stuff.


Harry Potter and the Perilous Handbook of Clichés

Our story starts on a fine day in July… July 31st, to be precise. Harry Potter's sixteenth birthday.

Usually boys and girls who turn sixteen wish for a car, maybe a later curfew, some cherry-flavored condoms. But not Harry. All Harry wanted was to GO BACK TO SCHOOL.

It's true. He hated living with the Dursleys, as everyone knows, and the Dursleys, being their usual anal and idiotic selves, decided they'd once again ignore the fact that Harry was suffering through puberty for about the 4th time.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry said one day in his unmistakable Barry White voice. He was making a ham sandwich in the kitchen. With mayonnaise.

His Uncle Vernon didn't answer at once. He was too busy being absorbed in the History channel. After what seemed like hours, he finally turned around and spat, "_WhhAaTtt?_"

Harry was taken aback. Usually his Uncle didn't speak like that. But, being sixteen, Harry dismissed this fact. He was much too macho to correct his Uncle's grammatical errors. (He was also too sexy for his shirt.)

"Well," he started. "I was wondering… since I have no form of transportation, could you possibly take me to King's Cross station on September 1st?"

Uncle Vernon laughed. Laughed and laughed. And laughed.

"As _if_," he said as he watched an Oxi Clean infomercial. "I'm going shopping for handbags on September 1st."

Harry very much doubted this.

"Can't you shop for your freakin handbags some other day?"

But then the author realized… Harry can't say the word 'freakin'. He's British.

"I mean…" Harry corrected himself. "Can't you go shopping for your_ bloody_ handbags some other day?"

Much better.

Uncle Vernon shook his head.

"No way," he told his nephew. "My handbags are of great importance. Besides, I scheduled it EXACTLY ON SEPTEMBER 1ST. I can't change the date all of the sudden! I have a very hectic shedule."

"Don't you mean _schedule_?" Harry said.

"No. That's how British people say it. Like a 'sh' instead of a 'sc'."

"But -"

"Quiet! Titanic's coming on."

&&&&&&&&&&

**WHOOSH CHANGE OF SCENERY AND TIME.**

"DON'T MISS THE TRAIN NOW!" Mrs. Weasley called to her children. "Goodbye Ron! Ginny! Harry! Hermione! Fred! George! Percy! Lindsey! Michael! Aaron! Jeff! Sally! Eric! Peter! Laurie…"

Harry looked confused as the train began to start.

"Fred, George, and Percy? But they've been out of school for a long time…"

"Not anymore, they aren't," said Ron. "They've all been held back indefinitely."

"But last year Fred and George left –"

"Harry, there's no use arguing," Hermione piped up. "This is a _fanfiction_. Percy has to keep going to school, because… well because Fred and George are. And Fred and George have to keep going to school because without them, then there wouldn't be any comic relief."

"I thought _I _was the comic relief," Ron said grumpily.

"Well, yes," butted in Fred, who had just appeared suddenly in the compartment. "But we're funnier than you, mate."

"Yeah," George joined them. "You're not as cool as us."

"Pity," said Ron.

Harry did not say a word. He had to be in some alternate universe. Fred, George, and Percy weren't supposed to be in school, it was impossible, Fred and George were already eighteen years old, and Percy was already twenty!

"Where _is _Percy, anyway?" Ginny said, looking around. It was as though she had read Harry's mind. (And, may I remind you, she had.)

"He's snogging some girl in the Snogging Compartment," responded George.

"Since when was there a Snogging Compartment?" Harry asked, utterly confused.

"There's always been one!" Ron exclaimed. Almost everyone in the compartment looked at Harry as though he were an idiot. "You didn't know? Hermione and I went in there in our 5th year when we told you we had to go to the Prefects Compartment."

"Oh," said Harry. "Did you go to the Prefects Compartment afterwards?"

'Nah," Ron told him. "There is no Prefects Compartment."

Harry glared at him.

"There's a _Staff _Snogging Compartment, too," said George. "I went past there one time and witnessed Professors Flitwick and Sprout… well, you can imagine what they were doing."

"Eurgh, I can't _even _imagine Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout doing something like that!" Ron muttered with revulsion.

"Something like what?" George asked.

"Snogging, of course!" Ron said.

"They were grading homework, you git," said George in an annoyed voice. "Why the hell would they be _snogging_?"

Almost everyone stared at Ron, and all was silent.

Harry was looking around the compartment they were in. He noticed something very strange about both Hermione and Ginny… they didn't look like Hermione and Ginny. Hermione now had light blonde hair (not bushy anymore, either), long, smooth legs, and dazzling white teeth. Ginny had short black hair, biker boots, and numerous spikes around her neck.

Harry looked at Ron. He looked exactly the same. So did Fred. So did George. He didn't know what Percy looked like, for he was still likely to be in the Snogging Compartment. The point was.. why had they changed like that? They looked positively ridiculous.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a book popped right next to Harry.

"AUUGGHHH!" Harry screamed. He had not expected for a book to appear out of nowhere. The rest merely stared at him.

"Calm down, Harry," Ginny said soothingly, stroking his leg. Harry gave her a look of disgust and wiped her hand off of him. What in the world had gotten into her? Meanwhile, everyone was looking at the book. Fred promptly picked it up and laughed.

"Well, look at this. The Perilous Handbook of Clichés. Wonder what it's for?" he said. Harry snatched it out of his hands and gasped at the cover in a very un-BarryWhite-ish way.

"Open it up, Harry," urged Hermione, her blonde hair being tossed to the side. Harry hesitantly opened up the cover and started to read aloud the words written on the first page.

"'Beware of this perilous book of clichés, reader,'" he… read. "'This book may inform you of the many deadly clichés, but once you read them, they take place throughout your confusingly alternate universe. It can also juggle pears, and it enjoys nice walks along the beach.'"

Harry looked up at them all, but no one was listening. No one was even there. Everyone had left to go to the Snogging Compartment, and had had no interest in The Perilous Handbook of Clichés. How rude!

Shrugging, Harry flipped to the very next page and read…

**1. MARY SUE.**

Mary Sue? Who could that be? It didn't even explain anything! That's all it said! So much for a good book. Harry shook his head pompously and received a great shock when his compartment door burst open.

A beautiful girl walked in. She could've been the most beautiful girl Harry had ever seen in his life. She had curly blonde hair, bright green eyes, a perfect body, and a gorgeous face. She was perfect in every way. There was a even a light radiating around her, as if she was giving off heat, and suddenly it seemed as though she had received a face full of wind, for her hair was blown back, making her seem dramatic and theatrical. (And, may I remind you, she was.)

"Hello," she said, looking over at Harry. Her voice was even beautiful (that's not surprising). "Is this the Snogging Compartment?"

Harry was merely staring at her. She was so pretty! Cho wasn't even as pretty as her! Shaking back to life he said, "Erm… no, sorry."

The beautiful girl raised her eyebrows in a seductive sort of way and said in a sultry voice, "Do you want it to be?"

Harry swallowed. "N – not really."

The girl huffed and rolled her eyes.

"You've obviously read about me in The Perilous Handbook of Clichés," she said exasperatedly, spotting the book on Harry's lap. Harry looked down at it.

"You're in here? Where?" he asked.

"The first page," she responded.

Harry suddenly got it. "So _you're _Mary Sue!" he exclaimed triumphantly. He felt extremely smart. Even though he is not.

"Bingo," Mary Sue said. "What, you thought I was just some random beautiful girl?"

"Well… yeah."

Mary Sue giggled girlishly and said, "Harry, Harry, Harry, you must know better than that. Clichés are everywhere. You just have to spit them."

"Spit them?" Harry asked in confusion. How could he spit a cliché?

"Sorry, I meant spot them," Mary Sue told him, rolling her eyes. "Damn typos."

Harry blinked. What in the bloody hell was a _typo_? Pushing the question aside, he picked up The Perilous Handbook of Clichés and flipped to the next page. He sincerely hoped that the next cliché didn't include a highly attractive girl stumbling into his compartment. Well, on second thought…

**2. MARY SUE AND MAIN CHARACTER HAVE LOVE AFFAIR.**

"WHAT?" Harry said aloud, when suddenly, Mary Sue jumped on him. "ARRGHH!" he yelled. He had not been expecting an attack.

"Don't you want to shag me?" Mary Sue asked, perplexed.

"SHAG YOU!" yelled Harry, shoving Mary Sue off of him. "Why would I want to shag you? Double gross, icky, phooey, disgusting, nasty, EW TIMES NINE!"

Harry finally managed to get the beautiful girl off of him and he dashed out of the compartment, flipping through the book once more and trying to find a way he could get out of this mess. What he was unaware of, however, was that he was making his alternate universe even worse. (Rhyme.)

"There's got to be a way out! THERE'S GOT TO BE A WAY OUT!" Harry frantically shouted. He had flipped to the next page.

**3. EXTREMELY ODD COUPLES.**

"Extremely odd couples?" Harry repeated, opening up a compartment door and looking inside. Unfortunately, he had gone straight to the Snogging Compartment. It looked like any compartment, except for it had couches and it was much bigger. All of his friends were there, and, of course, they were snogging.

Harry let out a yelp of surprise when he saw who the couples were. One couple was Ron and Pansy Parkinson. They seemed to be enjoying themselves very much, but Harry was shocked that Ron would do such a thing, especially to a girl like _her_.

"Ron, what are you _doing_?" he cried, grabbing Ron off of Pansy. "Why are you snogging with Pansy Parkinson?"

Ron, however, didn't answer. He pushed Harry off of him and continued to snog Pansy. Harry was breathing hard, his eyes darting around. This was insane! There were Lavender Brown and Oliver Wood (where did he come from!), George and Parvati Patil, Hermione Granger and Professor Snape –

"HERMIONE!"

Indeed, Hermione was snogging Professor Snape. It was a horrid sight. His black greasy hair swayed in Harry's view, but he knew it was Hermione. There was no mistake; that was _her _blonde hair.

He pulled Hermione into safety, away from Snape, and shook her by her incredibly tan shoulders.

"Stop it, Hermione!" he shrieked in a high voice. "Professor Snape is a git! And slimy! And –"

"Luscious?" Hermione said, smiling and dreamily staring at Snape. Harry practically screamed. What was happening? This was so unreal! He had to get back to the real world fast.

"Mary Sue!" he yelled as he spotted Fred and Luna Lovegood playing tonsil hockey.

Harry grabbed the book from Ron and Pansy's couch, where he had left it. The next page didn't help at all.

**4. ALL GRADUATES CONTINUE SCHOOL.**

What? All graduates continue school? That must've explained Oliver, and Percy, and Fred and George. They were already gone from school, but they were back! That just wasn't right! They were working men… Oliver was playing for Puddlemere United, Fred and George had their joke shop… not to mention, Percy was busy with the Ministry! Weatherby was needed (NEEEEEEEDED)!

Almost sprinting out of the Snogging Compartment, he ran straight into Mary Sue, who was smiling widely.

"There you are!" Harry gasped. "How do I get rid of this book? How can I get back to the real world? Why do I sound like Barry White?" And, thinking about this, Harry wildly shouted, "_WHO THE FUCK IS BARRY WHITE_?"

Mary Sue laughed quietly.

"I knew you would come back," she said. "They all do sometime or another."

Harry said not a word. He felt like punching her, but held back. She was definitely more annoying that anyone Harry knew, except for perhaps Draco Malfoy.

"Once you get to the end of the book, all of this will go away, and you can go back to your normal life." Mary Sue explained, pointing at the book Harry was holding at his side. Harry let out an impatient noise in the back of his throat.

"Let me guess," he said, folding his arms. "They got that from _Jumanji_."

Mary Sue grinned.

"Good job!" she said happily. "That's a cliché too; using Muggle movies or songs. I think that's number thirty-seven, though. Or maybe that's not a cliché at all, maybe it's just basic stupidity -"

"How many of these cliché things are there?" asked Harry, unfolding his arms and searching for the last page. Mary Sue shrugged.

"More than one hundred," she told him. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but she held up a finger. "There's only one thing that you can do to go home before you reach the end of the book."

"What's that?" Harry asked, doubting the answer would be relieving.

"Fulfill your rightful love affair," Mary Sue said, grinning from ear to ear. Harry rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

"I'm _not _having a love affair with you," he told her. "I'd have to be barking mad to do so. Hell, I'd rather finish the book –"

But Mary Sue interrupted him, laughing loudly.

"Not _me_, silly," she said childishly. "You must have heard of slash fiction. Have you?"

Harry stared at her. "No, I haven't!" he yelled. "And if I'm not having a love affair with _you_, then… who…?"

And right at that second, Harry's question was immediately answered. Draco Malfoy came strutting out of the Snogging Compartment, looking very smug (and only a tad bit sexy) about something.

Harry turned around and his breath caught in his throat. A love affair… with _Draco Malfoy_? No. No way. Anybody but him. ANYBODY BUT HIM.

"Hello, _Potter_," Draco hissed, spitting as he spoke Harry's last name. Harry slowly wiped off his glasses annoyingly and Malfoy continued. "Who's your little friend? Are you cheating on me, _Potter_?"

Harry couldn't stand it any longer; his voice burst from within the train.

"Cheating on you? CHEATING ON YOU?" He turned to Mary Sue. "I'm not having a love affair with him! Never! Not even if there were a million bloody clichés in this handbook! Not even if the world depended on me having a love affair with my archenemy! No way in hell! N – E – V – E – R."

Nothing was said. There was complete silence in which Harry quickly opened the book and turned to the next page, hoping the next cliché wouldn't be _too _perilous. He had had enough peril for one day.

**5. TIME LAPSES.**

Time lapses? Didn't that mean –

Suddenly, causing Harry, Mary Sue, and Malfoy to sway on the spot, the train came to a complete stop.

"What are we stopping for?" Harry asked, looking around aimlessly. Draco was eyeing him with a sort of hunger; he tried to ignore it and turned to Mary Sue for an explanation.

"We've arrived, of course," she said. With that, she started to walk back to her compartment, leaving Harry with a very horny Malfoy.

"Mm, _Potter_, those robes look so tight," he muttered sensually, trailing his finger along Harry's cheek. "Would you like me to take them off for you?"

Harry was swelling with anger. He tried to not whip out his wand and put every hex on Malfoy he knew, but he had to remain calm. This was an alternate universe, after all. If he just played along, soon enough he would be back to the normal world, with no Snogging Compartments, where Malfoy insulted him at every opportunity, where instead of Professor Snape snogging Hermione, he would be. Those were the days, weren't they?

"Malfoy," Harry breathed. "Get your filthy hands off of me. Now."

Malfoy simply chuckled softly.

"A feisty one, are we?" he whispered. "I like it when they're feisty…"

WHAT THE BLOODY – HE WAS LEANING IN FOR A KISS!

"ARRGHHH!"

Harry plainly could not hold it in any longer. He flew out of the train, onto the Hogsmeade platform, but then realized he wasn't on the Hogsmeade platform. Blimey, he was right in front of the entrance hall!

Mary Sue was directly behind him. Harry turned to her and said, "Another time lapse?"

"Not exactly," she said airily. "There is no Hogsmeade platform! There never _is_ a Hogsmeade platform in fanfiction. The students simply walk into the Great Hall. You didn't know that?"

Harry decided not to respond and walked into the Great Hall, settling down at the Gryffindor Table. He was the last one. HOW MANY TIME LAPSES ARE THERE FOR CHRIST'S –

"Welcome!" Dumbledore said, who had suddenly appeared at the Staff Table. In fact, all of the Professors appeared at the Staff Table.

'Right,' Harry thought, sighing. 'You can't Apparate on Hogwarts Grounds. Which means in this alternate universe you can.'

Harry depressingly opened The Perilous Handbook of Clichés, trying to find where he had left off. Within seconds he had found the page he had been looking for.

**6. EVERYONE GETS INTERRUPTED WHILE TALKING.**

"What does that -?" Harry started, but Hermione interrupted him. She had Apparated at his side.

"Shh, Harry, Dumbledore is about to make his –"

Dumbledore began speaking, and Hermione stopped talking at once. It was as if she knew she was going to be interrupted. (Which, may I remind you, she had.)

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" he said loudly, gesturing at all of the students who were sitting in front of them. They were all staring intently at him, as though waiting for him to be interrupted. (The time shall come, the time shall come.)

"Because I am about to be interrupted, I might –"

"_Hem, hem_."

Harry gasped aloud. UMBRIDGE! NO! IT WASN'T POSSIBLE! IT JUST WASN'T! THERE HAD TO BE AN EXPLANATION! THERE HAD TO BE! HARRY LOOKED OVER AT RON, HIS EYES WIDE.

"Calm down, Harry," Ron told him. "If you keep spazzing, them Cap Locks are likely to stay there, mmkay?" He looked back at Umbridge and said under his breath, "You shouldn't worry so mu –"

Umbridge letting out a loud sneeze interrupted him, but Harry was looking at Ron like he was crazy. (Which, may I remind you, he was anyway.)

"Why are you talking like that?" he asked, but he slapped himself in the forehead for even asking it. Of course, it was the alternate universe. Damn. Of course Ron was bound to talk like a dumbass. Harry dived for the handbook and flipped to the next page, desperately looking for a way out of this stupid world while Umbridge babbled on about Vanilla Ice (or something like it). There had to be some other way, some way out that Mary Sue hadn't told him. But instead of finding a solution, he discovered an even worse problem.

**7. ONE OF MAIN CHARACTER'S BEST FRIENDS DIES OF NATURAL CAUSES.**

Harry felt a lump forming in his throat.

In seconds, Ron slumped in his seat and stopped breathing. Harry whipped around and let out a yelp of surprise. He started to panic, looking around at the other students for help, but no one in the Great Hall had taken notice of Ron's sudden and shocking death. They all seemed to be absorbed in Umbridge's speech. She was now expressing her opinion on _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_.

"No!" Harry cried out. "Muggle… movies… clichés… bad… must… get… out… handbook… peril… Mary… Sue… snog… Ron!"

Tears were actually springing out of Harry's eyes. (What a baby.) He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to go home! This alternate universe was getting way out of hand. And Ron was dead because of it! It was all of his fault! WHY, GOD, WHYYYYY?

In the middle of all of this, Mary Sue was looking down at him, giggling to herself. Harry's eyes shot a glare at her, and she actually began to giggle even louder.

"STOP LAUGHING!" Harry bellowed, standing up. He was so angry that he pushed Mary Sue, hard, but she stayed exactly where she was. She had stopped giggling now, but was smiling as though Christmas had come early. (Which it probably had, since it's a cliché.)

"Oh, quite blubbering," she said. "Did it just occur to you that this is an alternate universe?"

"But Ron's DEAD!" shrieked Harry, shaking. "Look at him, he's dead, I tell you!"

Mary Sue rolled her eyes, which made Harry angrier. He pushed her again, but she remained where she was standing once again. "Would you stop pushing me? It won't help; I'm an Unpushable."

"You're a what?" Harry said, oblivious. He was breathing like a winded rhinoceros, all of his mind lost, all thoughts halted.

"An Unpushable!" Mary Sue told him. She rolled her eyes again, picked up The Perilous Handbook of Clichés from the table, and opened it up to a particular page.

**8. MAIN CHARACTER DISCOVERS UNBELIEVABLE SECRET ABOUT MARY SUE.**

"Oh," said Harry. He had calmed down a little. Ron, after all, had been dead for a whopping forty-six seconds. There was just no reviving him beyond that point. "But what in the world is an _Unpushable_?"

"Simple," Mary Sue explained. "Every Mary Sue has to have an unbelievable secret. An Unpushable is someone who can't be pushed." She grinned superiorly.

"Every Mary Sue is an Unpushable?" asked Harry, who was totally lost. (Which, may I remind you, he usually is.)

"Oh no, they can be sorceresses or veela or Death Eaters or even Americans. Some fanfiction writers find Americans mingling with Brits fascinating for some reason," said Mary Sue.

Harry found this all very confusing. There were so many rules to fanfiction! He wondered if there was a good story out there with _none _of these stupid clichés; he seriously doubted it.

"I want to go home," said Harry, totally changing the subject. (Damn him.) "I don't want to wait, I can't _stand_ anymore waiting, I want to go back to the real world. This fanfiction stuff is unbearable."

Mary Sue sighed and looked up at Harry sadly, as if not wanting him to go.

"Suit yourself," she said. Then, thinking, she asked, "Remember about those cherry-flavored condoms you didn't get for your birthday?"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, not looking at her. "What about them?"

Mary Sue didn't answer for quite awhile, and Harry stood there, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He was not one to wait. He had just said so himself. Some people are horrible listeners.

"What _about _them, damnit?" he finally said, and Mary Sue quickly snapped back from her trance. She grinned slyly at Harry, who felt as though he didn't want to know what she was going to say…

"Use one."

It was a flash of colors; Harry was spinning, and spinning, and spinning… he thought he was going to surely be sick. Suddenly, he crashed on hard ground. He seemed to be in some kind of empty classroom. He stood up, wheezing, and shook his head. Harry felt as though he had just traveled by Floo powder, except it was without the powder, and the chimney, and it didn't have the word Floo in it, and –

Then, interrupting the author, a soothing, mellow voice spoke from behind Harry.

"We meet again, _Potter_."

Harry whipped around, and before he could even say a word, Draco Malfoy attacked.


End file.
